


Hope

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8491894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: Something Damian said once bothered him. Now was as good a time as any to ask him about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based some time soon after Superman 10. Bruce is there to either talk about the kids more or a mission-y thing, either or, and brought Damian along as punishment/because Damian was already with him. It had already been established they were staying for dinner, and there’s probably a good chance the batbros stay the night, much to both their grumbling. The brother ‘death’ I mentioned is Tim, even though we all know that asshole really isn’t. Jon is too pure for his own good and Damian doesn’t deserve him as a friend. The race probably turns into being tackled by the pups and no one wins. They clean the cow shit together.

Jon stood at the bottom of the tree, and stared up at the large, reaching branches.

He hesitated, not sure if he was truly waiting or just debating his options. After all, last time he sat in this tree-

“Do you want an invitation or something?” The boy in said tree cut off with a snap. Jon, whose eyes had drifted, looked back up. The other was lying on the branch on his back, one leg draped off the side. “Because you aren’t going to get one.”

“No, but.” Jon sighed. Glanced back to the house, where their fathers could be seen chatting. He pursed his lips and looked back up. “Can we talk, Damian?”

“Do we have to?”

“…No.” Jon admitted. “But…it might be nice. Clear the air and all that.”

Damian didn’t answer.

Jon huffed. “Look – we might as well. Our dads work together. We’re going to see each other a lot, even if we don’t like each other. The least we can do is…what does Mom say? Be _civil_.”

“…If I say no?”

“Then I’ll leave you be, and try again later.” Jon retorted. There was a bark, and Jon looked into the field, where Titus and Krypto were romping.

“…Fine.” Damian said eventually, and Jon watched him carefully sit up. “Get up here. I’m not shouting from a damn tree.”

“Your dad lets you swear?” Jon asked, eyeing the trunk, remembering last time, when he sat in this tree with Kathy. “That’s…cool.”

“My father doesn’t have a choice, or a say, in how I speak.” Damian returned, leaning poutily against the trunk. He glanced down at Jon and raised his eyebrow. “Well? Are you coming?”

“Yeah, I…” Jon inhaled, and after a moment, carefully began floating, slowly moving himself upwards. Damian watched him boredly the whole time, staring as Jon settled himself further along the branch.

“What, you couldn’t just climb?” Damian drawled. “I would have moved.”

“No, I…” Jon grinned nervously. “Last time I sat in this tree, I…I kind of freaked. Ended up breaking the branch and falling. Knocked myself out. Didn’t want to, you know. In case it happened again, I didn’t want to risk making _you_ fall instead.”

“…Oh.” Damian sounded honestly surprised. “Makes sense, I suppose. I could have handled it though.”

Jon smiled. “Yeah I figured. You’re pretty tough.”

Damian frowned. “Flattery gets you nowhere.” He almost growled. “Now. What did you want to talk about.”

Jon paused. Swung his legs back and forth as he glanced over towards the house again, where Clark and Bruce were still talking. “Mostly…well, you said something. Earlier, when you kidnapped me. And it was…weird. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“I said a lot of things while I had you restrained for Maya and I’s _safety_.” Damian retorted. “To what are you referring?”

“Well, when your dad showed up, and you were talking about _my_ dad. You said something about…a ‘sickening victory lap of hope.’” Jon twisted his lips in thought. “You said that like having hope, and giving people hope, is a _bad_ thing.”

“Your point?”

Jon shrugged. “I guess…why? Why don’t you like hope?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t _like_ it.” Damian snapped. “I…just…” He stopped. Sighed. Looked down, as the dogs ran underneath their branch. “With the life I’ve lived…well, let’s just say I learned very early that having hope is a weakness, and pointless, and a waste of energy. So why bother.”

“Because without hope, life sounds pretty miserable.” Jon hummed.

Damian looked up at him and scowled. “You don’t know _anything_ about me, so don’t make assumptions, _Superboy_.”

“I’m not!” Jon promised. “But, you’re right I guess. I _don’t_ know anything about you. Other than you’re Batman’s son, and…” He looked at their fathers. “…he apparently hasn’t always been there for you.”

In his periphery, he saw Damian look at their dads too. They sat in silence for a moment, before Damian sighed again, shoulders slumping in almost defeat.

“It’s not…his fault.” Damian admitted softly. “He didn’t know I existed, and didn’t know to look, as my mother never told him she was with child, however unorthodox my birth was. I was raised under her tutelage and ideals. By the time he was made aware, I was already ten years old, and fully trained as an assassin.”

“Your mom trained you to be an _assassin_?!” Jon asked. “Jeez, and here I thought my mom was strict, because she wouldn’t let me have ice cream after nine-pm!”

Damian cracked a smile. “…Even after I came to live with my father’s found family in Gotham, hope was…well. Let’s just say I’ve relearned time and time again that having hope is meaningless, and getting said hopes up will only make the eventual defeat all the more painful.”

Jon frowned, and stared pointedly at the other.

And Damian held out for a moment. A minute, but Jon didn’t let up. Silently stared until Damian almost shrunk into himself, and leaned away to flop against the tree trunk once more.

“When I first came to Gotham, to live with my father, whom I had never met and spent my whole life trying to live up to, he died almost instantly. I was then taken in and cared for by my eldest brother. He was an excellent mentor, and a good…a good _friend_. The _only_ friend I’ve ever truly had, if I’m honest. But when my father returned, Grayson was removed as my partner and left Gotham, and I never really got a say in that entire situation. And then the fool went and lied about being dead and…well, I guess I’m still not entirely over that. Then my mother got upset that I chose my father’s crusade over hers, and had me killed, right when I thought I’d found a place I belonged and a family who…who _loved_ me.” Damian crossed his arms, kept his eyes low. “Most recently, my other brother passed away. He and I were never close, but. We were starting to get along. Now we won’t have the chance to.”

“…Wow.” Jon gaped. “I…I’m sorry, Damian. That sounds…really awful.”

Damian grinned again, but it was bitter. “And that isn’t even _half_ of it.”

“But…there is still room for hope in there, I think.” Jon tried. “I mean…maybe you can’t see it, because you do it every day, but. I mean, you _are_ hope, Damian. You and Batman. You guys _are_ hope for Gotham.”

“…Hm.”

“And that sucks about your brothers. About _both_ of them.” Jon continued. “But, I don’t think that Grayson guy was your only friend. Maya seems to care about you a lot, and Goliath, and your pets.” He smiled. “ _I’ll_ be your friend, if you’ll let me.”

Damian frowned. “Who said I _wanted_ you to be?”

“No one.” Jon smiled. “But, I mean. I think you’re pretty cool. Even if you’re a jerk sometimes.”

Damian scoffed, and rolled his eyes. “I’m not apologizing for spying on you, or taking you to Gotham, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s fine.” Jon hummed. “I’m not apologizing for punching you either.”

“Good. I wouldn’t accept it anyway.”

“Good.”

They sat in the quiet for a moment, looking at their dogs, at their dads. At everything but each other.

“…Your father hates me.” Damian whispered quietly.

“No, he doesn’t.” But that didn’t sound right, so Jon quickly amended. “…I’ll change his mind.” Stop. “I don’t think Batman likes me either.”

“Batman doesn’t like _anybody_. You aren’t special.” Damian returned. “But. If I can change his mind about myself, I’m sure I can change his mind about you too.”

It was a sad thing to hear, and Jon didn’t know how much of the statement he believed – Batman was going to hit Superman with Kryptonite to protect Damian in Gotham after all, he probably wouldn’t do that for just anyone – but didn’t say anything about it. Just made a mental note.

“Thanks.” Jon muttered instead. “…Hey, I never showed you my own animals, did I?”

“No. Though I did see the gra-” Damian stopped himself, despite Jon already knowing what he was going to say. Goldie’s grave, right beneath this tree. “…No. You haven’t yet.”

Jon appreciated the effort, though. Laughed to himself, didn’t say this out loud either but – maybe there was hope for Damian yet.

“And you said you liked tea, right? My mom can make you some. We’ll ask her when we go by the house. Come on.” Jon immediately hopped from the branch, concentrating to slowly lower himself to the ground. As soon as he was, he quickly looked back up. “Need help getting down?”

Damian scoffed again, already moving and sliding down the trunk. “ _Please_.”

“Oh, right. You’re Robin, you can do _anything_.” Jon drawled as Damian joined him. Damian smirked, just a little. “…Though…I bet I can beat you back to the house. Even _without_ powers.”

“You can barely walk without stumbling over your own feet, _farm boy_.” Damian returned, just as good-naturedly. “But if you insist – I’ll take that bet, and make you _sorry_ you made it.”

“Last one back has to clean up the cow poop in the stables after dinner?” Jon grinned. “I remember how much you _love_ cow poop.”

Damian scowled. “Oh, you are _so on_.”

Titus and Krypto, at that moment, ran by, and Damian immediately took off in their wake. Jon, cackling, raced after him.

Yeah. There was definitely hope yet.


End file.
